


Lost in Time

by SParkie96



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Bottom Ezio Auditore da Firenze, Canon-Typical Violence, Drugged Sex, Gang Rape, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Prisoner of War, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slurs, Top Connor, Top Haythem
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-15 04:56:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13606011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SParkie96/pseuds/SParkie96
Summary: While examining the Apple of Eden in Leonardo’s workshop, a blinding white light transports Ezio to another time and drops him right in the middle of the Revolutionary War. Before he can encounter the Assassin of this time, he is taken captive by the Templars of this new world. Can he escape? If so, where will he go in this strange new place? Rated for slash, attempted rape, drugging, and typical Assassin’s Creed violence and themes.





	1. Strange New Places

Though now aching and so very exhausted, Ezio knew he had to get this “Apple” to Leonardo so they could find out why it was so important to the Templars, more specifically their master, the Spaniard; Rodrigo Borgia. The brunette remembered looking down at the strange sphere in his hand earlier, raising a brow in curiosity. It had not looked like much to him, but it must have been important if he was nearly killed for it. If Rodrigo wanted it badly enough, it was better that they examine it and then hide it away, so it may never be found again.

Another thing that floated throughout his mind was this idea of a “Prophet’s arrival” foretold by some ancient scripture. Now, finding out that he may be some kind of Prophet apart of some prophecy and joining the Assassins officially…it was all still so much to take in at once. The dull ache in his ring finger reminded him of the ceremony that had taken place not too long ago. A good night’s rest was definitely in order before he could begin his pursuit of the bastardo Spagnolo.

A sigh of relief left the Italian as he stumbled upon Leonardo’s doorstep, nearly tripping on his own two feet before tumbling into the workshop unceremoniously. He would definitely need to catch at least pisolino while here. Upon opening the door, he saw that Uncle Mario and Niccolò Machiavelli had beaten him here, standing next to Leonardo as they inspected the artifact from afar. It glowed faintly like it had briefly earlier, making Ezio feel quite uneasy.

“Fascinating…absolutely fascinating...” Leonardo practically gasped, leaning in and taking a closer look at it.

Ezio raised a brow once more, “What is it, Leonardo? What does it do?” he asked curiously.

Leonardo flashed him a smile, “I could no more explain this than to explain to you why the Earth goes around the Sun.” he said.

Mario snorted, “You mean the Sun around the Earth.” He said.

Leonardo rolled his eyes before going back to look at the artifact more closely, “It is fabricated with materials that should not exist and yet, it is clearly a very ancient artifact.”

“The Codex refers to it as “A Piece of Eden”.” Mario cut in again.

“The Spaniard…” Ezio began trying to remember what Rodrigo had referred to it as during their encounter, “…he called it, “The Apple”.”

Leonardo shot him a look of realization, “Like “Eve’s Apple, of Forbidden Knowledge”. Are you then suggesting that this thing…?”

The rest of Leonardo’s sentence fell on deaf ears as something compelled Ezio to touch it. Whether it had been the warm sun like glow emanating from the sphere, or the soothing whispers coaxing him to reach out and touch it. Ezio slowly reached out, fingers outstretched, before placing his palm on the golden orb. The glow exploded into a blinding white light, causing the occupants to shield their eyes to prevent from being blinded. Ezio felt a warm sensation wash over him before something pulled him toward the apple. Leonardo had called out his name before the light blinded him completely.

* * *

A groan escaped the Italian as he landed not too gently onto a patch of grass. Loud bangs filled the air as well as the sounds of men shouting in the distance…and right near him? He heard someone say something along the lines of “Bloody hell!” or something like that. What did that mean? He tentatively opened his eyes to take in his surroundings. There was a large group of men dressed in strange red coats holding equally strange weapons. Upon their heads were strange caps. Were these soldiers of some sort? More bangs rang through the air as a man above him fell backward, bloody exploding from the center of his skull. The men dispersed, readying their strange weapons and firing towards the large field.

Ezio rolled out of the way as tiny projectiles nearly hit him but hissed in pain as one managed to catch his right shoulder. He sat behind a nearby tree and pulled whatever had hit him out of his shoulder. It was a tiny pellet, no bigger than the tip of his pinky. What the hell was this? Where was he? What the hell was going on? He turned his head to where the men had previously stood, deafened by the sounds of gunfire and loud bangs. Big cannon balls pelted the ground, sending debris and bodies flying. Was he in the middle of a war?

“Cazzo!” Ezio hollered as one of the now dead redcoats flew through the air before hitting him.

His yells drew the attention of the strangely dressed man on a horse nearby. The man pointed his sword towards Ezio’s direction, the words “It’s the Assassin! Get him!” escaped his mouth. Another curse escaped Ezio as he pushed the dead body off of his own body before jumping to his feet. The redcoats charged at him, weapons at the ready or swinging at him. One man caught him in the side with the end of the weapon while another stabbed at his arm with the other end. The sharp dagger like object nearly missed him, slicing the edge of his forearm before Ezio’s own blade pierced his throat. The brunette managed to grab his sword, swinging it at the nearest soldier to prevent him from hitting him. The sword caught the soldier in the chest and arm, slicing the other man’s hand clean off.

The sound of something large flying through the air caught his attention, brown eyes catching sight of the incoming cannon ball. Ezio dove out of the way, watching as the large metal ball caught one of the men in the chest before embedding itself, and the man, into the ground. The force of the blow sent a strong shockwave, throwing Ezio backward toward the man on the horse. The horse screeched, rearing back on to its hind legs before nearly stomping in Ezio’s head with its hooves. Had he not recovered, his brain would have stained the battlefield. Before Ezio could stab the man on the horse, a knife caught him in his shoulder, not too far from the gunshot wound he had received. A pained yell escaped the Italian as he pulled the small knife out of his shoulder. The blade looked almost identical to one of his own throwing knives.

“Easy now, boy. Best not to do something we will all regret.” A male’s voice called out.

Ezio looked around but saw no one. What…where had that voice come from? He heard the branches of the trees rustle above him, leaves falling through the air. The voice mocked him in its strange accent, telling him that his skin was far too light and fair to be his son, and his Assassin’s robes were too flashy to be from around here. Ezio called out to the voice, demanding he show himself and stop hiding like the coward he was.

“Very well. If it’s a fight you want.” The voice called, before a man jumped down out of the trees before knocking Ezio down and landing on top of him, blade ready at his throat.

Ezio grunted in pain as his head collided with the hard Earth. He felt the cold blade near his throat, causing him to trace the designs with his eyes. This man…was an Assassin? Before Ezio could assure him that they were on the same side, the man started talking again, noting that the brunette’s accent must have been European, clearly Italian. Judging by the Assassin’s symbol on his belt, he must have been a member of the Italian Brotherhood of Assassins. He made a comment about the Italian being a little far from home. It would be a shame to have to end his journey here.

“You…are an Assassin. We are on the same side.” Ezio explained.

“I was an Assassin. It took some time for me to realize that the Assassins were misguided fools and that the Templars were not the enemy I had come to know them as. The Assassins are stuck in their old ways, too outdated to know right and wrong. Speaking of old ways…I do believe I’ve seen you before. In ancient scriptures and statues in the various temples. Ezio Auditore, is it?” the man asked with an amused smirk.

The brunette just glared at the older man, brown eyes seething with hatred. How dare this snake turn his back on the Assassins? The Italian wanted to bury his own blade into this man’s throat, but found himself unable to, arms pinned down under the other man’s legs. The sounds of the battle nearby reminded the older man that there was indeed a war going on and that it was time to go. The man informed Ezio that his son was probably on his way here to kill off Pitcairn so that meant they had to be on their way. Ezio told him that he was not going anywhere with a traditore and that he would kill him himself.

His threat was cut-off midsentence as the British man knocked him out with the blunt end of his gun.

Haytham Kenway looked down at the assassin before him. So, the great Ezio Auditore da Firenze somehow managed to trap himself here in this time period. No doubt one of the Pieces of Eden had a part to play in this. He had remembered reading that Time Travel was just one of the Apple’s many capabilities. What should he do with the Italian? Kill him? No, that was too easy…and it was not like it would affect anyone if he did so. The apple of this time had not been found yet, so it’s not like Ezio was going anywhere either. Even if he did escape, where would the Italian go? This was America, not Italy. He would be absolutely lost and not too hard to find. Judging by the boy’s appearance, he was not too far into his assassin’s career. Still young, and not too bad looking. Why not keep the soon to be Master Assassin for himself? Charles would be jealous.

He bent down and lifted the Italian into his arms, almost losing his footing at first. He had not realized the other would be so heavy. Getting a better grip on the younger male, Haytham made his way over to his horse. After throwing Ezio on to the horse, Haytham mounted before riding off, hearing Pitcairn’s distressed screams behind him. Oh well, another pawn down, but Connor would never get close enough to figure out what was going on. The boy may be persistent, but the Templars had plans for such stubborn behavior that would stop Connor completely in his tracks.

* * *

Connor withdrew his tomahawk from the now bleeding throat of John Pitcairn, watching the man feebly clutch at his neck in an attempt to halt the bleeding. The Native American bid the dying man rest in peace, telling him in his Native tongue that it was better to have faith in something, than none at all. He was relieved to have killed Pitcairn, but knew his mission was not yet complete. He looked down at the note he had taken from John. He would have to give it to General Putnam upon his return. Hearing the approaching sounds of British footsteps, Connor hastily made his retreat.

Once on the other side, Connor approached Putnam, watching as the General scolded one of his men for sneaking up on him. The general then spoke of a retreat, confusing Connor. Why retreat when they were so close to victory?

"General Putnam." Connor said firmly.

Putnam turned his attention to Connor, “You live!” he said with surprise.

Connor nodded, “The same cannot be said for Pitcairn.” He reported.

Putnam sighed, walking over to the sandbag barricade overlooking the hill, eyes looking outward, and mouth twisted in a frown, “Well done, I suppose. But it matters little now. I’m ordering a full retreat. We have lost too many in exchange for too little. If the Tories want this hill so badly, let them have it. Boston is the true prize.” He said, walking over to the area that overlooked Boston.

Connor followed, looking out as well. He handed the note to Putnam, informing him that they had a bigger problem. Putnam looked down at it, asking what Connor had meant. Placing his cigar back in his mouth, he snatched the letter out of Connor’s hand. The General’s face changed from anger and annoyance to shock as he read over it.

“This can’t be right. It says they plan to murder Washington!” Putnam shouted.


	2. Captured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains an attempted rape scene. Not a rape scene, just attempted.

Had it not been for the shouting and the sounds of barred doors slamming shut, Ezio would have thought he was in his own bed in Monteriggioni. Eyes opened slowly, barely seeing much in the dimly lit room. He looked down at the surprisingly comfortable cot underneath of himself before looking around the room. By the looks of it, in the candlelight, he was in a cell in some kind of prison. How did he get here? Where were his weapons? His tunic? He noticed that he was only clad in his shirt and pants. Even his boots were missing, leaving him barefoot.

Memories of earlier rushed back to him. Il Traditore, the assassin who turned his back on the Brotherhood in favor of the bastard Templar Order. He must have brought him here, but why? He said something about his son killing someone, so that meant they had to leave. Why did they have to leave? What did the man want with him? Was he going to kill him? Were they trying to get something out of him? How would they know that he knew something? The man had said his name…that he knew him and mentioned something about “the old ways”. What did that mean? Was he in another time? But how…

“The Apple…” Ezio whispered to himself in realization, “it must have brought me here, but where is here?”

“Oi! Look ‘ere, Charlie! The bloody bastard is finally awake. Rest easy, Pretty Assassin?” another male voice called.

Ezio turned to look at the stranger in front of his cell. This man was different from the man he encountered earlier. This one reeked of alcohol, smoke, and some other smell Ezio could not quite place, but it smelled awful. He looked like he spent most of his time drinking and screwing around in taverns and in brothels, much like Ezio used to. This man made kissing noises at him beckoning him closer to the bars with a crooked finger, telling the Italian that he did not bite…much. Ezio did not move or say a word, brown eyes watching the man cautiously from his seat on the cot.

The man tilted his head with a smile tapping against the cage, “Aw, don’t get all shy on me now, pretty bird. Come ‘ere. Give us a kiss.”

“Hickey, do not tease the prisoner. Get your drunken arse back before you or the Assassin do something that would get us all in Haytham’s bad graces.” Another voice called as an older man made his appearance.

The other man, or “Hickey”, told the other man to shove it up his arse, but backed away from the bars and disappearing out of sight. The older man flashed the other man a look of annoyance before turning his attention back to Ezio. The man introduced himself as Charles Lee, telling the brunette that it was both an honor and a displeasure to meet Ezio. That never in his lifetime would he imagine meeting the very person who helped restart the incessant crusade against their order. One of the reasons that they were dealing with their own Assassin. He then asked the Assassin how he ended up here.

“What year is it?” Ezio asked quietly.

“…I beg your pardon?” Charles asked, not quite sure what the younger man said.

“What year is it?” Ezio repeated, louder this time.

“The year is 1775, over 200 years after your time, unfortunately for you. It must be quite strange, being in a different time period, but Haytham informed me that you have not been here long, so you don’t know just how different everything truly is. Speaking of being here, how did you get here?” Charles asked curiously.

Ezio felt a tightness in his chest, a shocked gasp escaping his lips. 200 years? Why? Why did the Apple bring him here? For what purpose? Were the Assassins still operating in Italia? Had Rodrigo been defeated? What of his remaining family members? His comrades? What of Monteriggioni? He held his head in his hands, trying to take all of this in. Why was he here? Where could he go? And what did these Templars want with him? He heard Charles repeat his question for the third time.

“The Apple…it brought me here. I have no idea how or why, but I plan on getting out of here and finding a way back home.” Ezio said, voice cracking a bit.

Charles chuckled, “You speak as though you are actually getting out of here. In case you have not noticed, you are unarmed and helpless. Trapped in another time with no where to go, Assassin. Even if you did manage to escape, how will you get home? Another Apple of Eden has not been seen in years. Sure, there have been stories, but none have been confirmed. And I’m sure the Savage will not believe a word you say. The people of this town will label you a mad man and send you right back here, where your kind belongs: in a cage.”

Ezio growled and lunged at the bars, causing Charles to stumble backward and fall against the wall in fear. Hickey’s laughter could be heard not too far away, telling Charles that the Italian was a feisty one. The momentary fear subsided as Charles then laughed in amusement, getting close to the bars once again. He mocked the younger male, saying that he was not afraid of him, not as long as these bars separated them. Ezio challenged Charles, telling him to open the cell and fight him like a man. Before Charles could respond, the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupting their spat. Both men turned their head in the direction of the sound.

Il Traditore stood not too far away, looking quite unimpressed with the both of them. With a hand, he waved Charles off, to which Charles did without protest. A “Yes, Grandmaster” crossed Charles’s lips before backing away from the cell. So, not only was the bastardo a traitor, but he was also the Grandmaster? Ezio would enjoy killing this man. Haytham approached the cell, standing a head taller than Ezio. Charles informed the traitor, now known as Haytham, that he was wondering how the Assassin got here and decided to ask for himself. The Apple had brought him here, but Haytham only chuckled, saying that he could have told him that information himself. Haytham turned his attention back to Ezio, who simply glared back at him.

A moment of silence hung in the air, none of them saying anything. Haytham tilted his head back toward Charles and Hickey’s direction, asking if the prisoner had been fed anything yet. Hickey said he had something for the prisoner before melting into perverted laughter, and Charles shook his head, informing Haytham that the Italian had just woken up not too long ago and that they did not get the chance to feed him. Haytham hummed before telling a nearby guard to fetch some food for their prisoner, and to add the special ingredients in order to make their prisoner more compliant. Once the guard went on his way, Haytham then asked Hickey if it was about time he mobilized his next order of business instead of wasting their time with his nonsense. A bottle smashed on the floor, followed by curses as Hickey made his exit. Haytham rolled his eyes at the other man, looking downward at Ezio once more.

“Unlock the cell, Charles.” Haytham simply said.

Charles gave the other man an incredulous look, “Are you mad? You said it yourself; he’s a dangerous assassin!” he exclaimed.

“I said he will be a dangerous assassin, Charles,” Haytham began, “Currently, he is not. He looks to be about in his twenties, which means he is just barely an assassin, and barely a threat. When he reaches around forty or so, then he will become an issue. He is nothing but a novice, now. Unlock the cell, Charles.”

Though still hesitant and now very much afraid, Charles fumbled with the keys as he pushed past Haytham to open the cell. Ezio went to snatch the keys, but the sound of a hidden blade being unsheathed stopped him in his tracks, the tip of the blade just barely touching his throat. He had not even noticed Haytham outstretching his arm in his direction. Haytham only gave him a look and canted his head as a warning, daring the younger to do something stupid. Ezio removed his hands from the door, allowing Charles to unlock it. Simultaneously, the guard had returned with food, carefully handing the bowl over to Haytham. After thanking the guard and telling both Charles and said guard to remain right behind him, Haytham made his way into the cell.

Ezio immediately rushed the older man, throwing himself into his chest with a forearm. The action knocked the bowl out of his hand and sent it crashing to the floor. Haytham grunted but regained his footing before Ezio could escape the cell. He snatched the brunette by his waist, throwing him back toward the cot. A pained noise escaped Ezio’s throat as his back slammed against the wall. The wind was knocked out of his as a forearm slammed against his throat, a blade readied above the arm. Ezio wanted to lash out, but the tip of the blade poked him, causing a small bead of blood to dribble out of the cut. He bared his teeth at the other, feeling like a trapped dog.

“One wrong move, and you will be reunited with your father and brothers, leaving your home defenseless.” Haytham growled, pressing his forearm harder into Ezio’s chest.

Ezio grunted at the pressure. A hand shot out, catching Haytham’s arm with the hidden blade and pushing it backward and away before kneeing the elder in the middle. The surprise attack stunned Haytham enough to send him back off of the cot, allowing Ezio to land a blow to Haytham’s cheek. It did not knock him out, but it had him holding his face in pain, giving Ezio a momentary window of opportunity. He leaped over the older man before making his way to the opened cell. Only for it to shut in his face, Charles and the guard backing away to avoid being attacked. He shoved against the door but found it locked.

Before he could demand his release, a hand twisted into his hair. His head was then slammed into the bars, stars reeled into his vision. A body shoved him up against the bars, hand still gripping his hair. Ezio felt his head being jerked backward, feeling Haytham’s breath on his neck and ear. The older man called him foolish and stubborn, two words that befit a child like himself. He then asked what the Italian hoped to accomplish with his little outburst. What would he have done if he had managed to escape? Ezio growled before throwing back an elbow to Haytham’s face, hearing the man’s nose give a satisfying crack upon impact.

Ezio spit blood in Haytham’s direction, “I do not know, but I would have figured it out.” He said, wiping at his own bloody nose with his sleeve.

Haytham only chuckled in reply, “You Assassins and your foolish behavior. You think you’re so resourceful and unafraid, but deep down I know how scared you are. I can see through you boy. You’re done.” He said, getting on to his own feet.

Ezio reached down to pick up a shard of the broken bowl, quickly ducking out of the way before the older man could kick him in the face. He released a battle cry and charged at Haytham again, sending them crashing through the cot. Ezio raised the shard of glass as he readied it to stab the other beneath him, but Haytham snatched Ezio’s wrist. The older man headbutted the younger, temporarily stunning the brunette. Using this to his advantage, Haytham flipped them so that Ezio was pinned underneath of him. A scream left the younger as a piece of wood stabbed him in the same area as his gunshot wound. After straddling his waist to keep him in place, Haytham repeatedly slammed Ezio’s wrist down until the brunette released his weapon.

“I have half a mind to kill you right now!” Haytham hollered, pinning down both of Ezio’s wrists with one of his hands.

“Then why don’t you?!” Ezio hollered back.

Haytham chuckled darkly again, “Because it would be too easy. Besides, I have a better plan for you. I’m going to break you, something most Templars wished they could accomplish themselves. Then, I’ll drag your pathetic body to that cesspool the Davenport Homestead and show my son and his allies what will become of them if they continue their pathetic escapades. Then, once I find the Apple, I’ll send you back home, broken and bleeding. So much so, you’ll be afraid to look another Templar in the face.”

“How…will that happen? Your friend said that another Apple has not been seen in years.” Ezio said, feeling his pants being jerked down.

Another chuckle, “Because I know exactly where it is.”

With his free hand, Haytham used his hidden blade to cut open the Italian’s shirt. Buttons popped open, bouncing around the cell. By now, only Charles remained to watch, having sent the guard away to retrieve another bowl of food. Once the guard returned, Charles informed Haytham of the guard’s return, suggesting that the Assassin eat. He even suggested that it might be too soon to begin breaking in the younger. Upon seeing Haytham rolling his eyes and growling at the other, Charles quickly added that Haytham could force-feed Ezio on their way back to the tavern. The Brit thought about it before nodding in agreement, suggesting that they first move Ezio to a more secluded area. Charles nodded quickly, opening the cell door once more.

Haytham got on to his feet, dragging the younger man up with him as he did so. Charles called over another guard to bind the Assassin’s wrists. The guard came over and, with Haytham’s assistance, tightly tied Ezio’s wrists together before gathering the chest with Ezio’s belongings. Haytham kept an iron grip on the brunette’s bicep, squeezing it threateningly and reminding the boy that fighting against them would be useless. The guard with the Assassin’s meal surrendered the bowl to Charles. The older man took it and thanked him, leading his Grandmaster and the brunette to the carriage waiting for them out front.

Once outside, Charles opened the carriage door for Haytham. Haytham nodded, throwing his prisoner unceremoniously on to the floor. Ezio grunted when he landed non-too-gently on his shoulder. He was then forced into a sitting position on a bench next to Haytham. The older man wound an arm around his own as he accepted the bowl from Charles, who sat across from them. The graying haired man took a handkerchief out of his jacket, as well as a small bottle of unknown liquid, pouring said liquid on to the handkerchief.

"Where are we going? What is that?" Ezio asked, eyeing the cloth warily.

"Just a little something to calm your nerves. It should work perfectly with your food." Charles said, pressing the cloth tightly against Ezio’s face.

The cloth smelled of lavender and some other unknown scent, but the concoction made him involuntarily relax. It also made him slightly dizzy and made his head ache. Just when Ezio thought he would suffocate on the cloth, it was taken away from his face. He released a breath, suddenly feeling odd. He felt as though his head was suddenly spinning. He was given a momentary relief before Haytham fed him a piece of meat, using his dagger as a utensil. Ezio leaned against Haytham, suddenly feeling very tired. What...what did they do to him? What was that? He heard Haytham and Charles conversing, but could not understand what they were saying. It wasn’t long until the Italian dozed off to the sounds of the horses and wheels over the cobblestone street.

* * *

Connor accompanied General Putnam back to Boston, the general rambling on about how they were supposed to get this letter back to Washington before an attempt on his life could be made. Connor was not really paying attention. His attention was currently focused on a man who looked eerily like Charles Lee and his father. Though, from this far away, Connor could not tell. He squinted his eyes at the men, noticing that they were dragging a very unwilling third male with him. After the sun caught their faces, Connor confirmed that the two men were indeed his father and Charles. His father threw their unwilling prisoner into the carriage.

Connor rushed ahead of Putnam, leaving the man behind and yelling his confusion. He was not missing his chance to get rid of Charles Lee once and for all. Chasing after the fast-moving carriage, thoughts ran through his head. Who was the unwilling participant his father and Charles had captured? What were their plans for him? Whatever the case, this man needed help and his life was in danger the longer he was with the two Templars. When the carriage turned the corner, Connor hit the rooftops in order to keep up, ignoring the redcoats shouting at him. Arrows and bullets flew through the air after him in an instant. His pursuit was interrupted by even more soldiers cutting him off. An annoyed growl escaped him as he was forced to stop and fight off the redcoats.


	3. Violation and Meeting

“Get up. We’re here.” Haytham commanded, pulling Ezio out of his sleep.

The Italian went to protest but had to pull himself together as Haytham yanked him out of the carriage by his arm. It took him a moment to take in his surroundings as well as maintain his footing to prevent from falling on to the cold hard ground. Currently, he actually could not see anything due to whatever the hell was on his face. They must have blindfolded him after he had fallen unconscious in the carriage, but for what purpose, he did not know. Maybe so he would not know the way to their hideout? For secrecy? The Italian did not know, but he really wished they had not covered his eyes.

With a startled cry, Ezio lost his footing and tumbled clumsily on to the ground. Haytham made a sound of annoyance, giving the younger’s arm a particularly hard squeeze. Clumsy child. Rolling his eyes, Haytham hoisted Ezio to his feet before practically dragging him into the tavern. Ezio tried to resist and fight, thrashing and lashing out in a vain attempt to escape. He threw back another elbow, catching Haytham in the chest. There was a momentary window of opportunity to escape, but due to being bound and blinded, Ezio did not get far. Haytham caught him around the waist, blade ready at the brunette’s throat.

“Do you know what insanity is, my boy? It’s trying the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Give up.” Haytham growled into his ear.

“Never…” Ezio growled back.

Finally having enough of the younger’s stubbornness, Haytham kicked Ezio’s legs out from under him. Before the other could hit the ground, the Brit hoisted him on to his shoulder. The cursing Italian demanded release, but his cries fell on deaf ears upon entry into the tavern. The other patrons turned their heads toward the noise but were unsure of what was going on. The Italian anger caused him to slip into his native tongue, causing even more confusion. Other patrons were too drunk or too into their table games to care. The bartender nodded his head at Haytham and Charles, allowing them entry to the upper level of the tavern where their living spaces were.

Once outside his quarters, Haytham kicked open the door with Charles close behind. Charles turned to the two or three mercenaries playing checkers at a nearby table. Dropping a pouch of coins on their table, he told them to gather more of their men and be on the look-out for any unwanted visitors dressed in blue coats or white hoods. With a nod, the men abandoned their game and headed downstairs.

In Haytham’s quarters, the British man threw Ezio down on to the bed, knocking the wind out of him. The door slammed shut, causing the brunette to flinch. The gray-haired man grabbed more rope he kept on hand, climbing onto the bed and straddling the younger’s waist once again. Pinning Ezio’s bound wrists to the headboard, Haytham secured them to one of the bars with intricate and tight knots. Once that was done, Haytham pulled on the ropes to test their durability. If those knots and rope could hold whole cannons and equipment in place for months at sea on a ship, they would be strong enough to hold a stubborn Assassin for a while.

Charles knocked curtly on the door with the Assassin’s belongings, telling Haytham that he was coming in. Upon Haytham’s permission, Charles entered, dropping the chest on the nearby table. He turned to see his master straddling the young assassin, a twinge of jealousy twisted at his heart at the sight before him. He had been pining after Haytham since the day they had met, doing anything and everything the man told him to. He even confessed his love for the other, but Haytham shook it off as drunken ravings. Here was the man of his dreams, giving some Assassin whom he had just met his attention. Haytham practically jumped the Italian’s bones in the cell and here he was about to jump his bones again.

“Um…I hope I was not interrupting anything…sir.” Charles said awkwardly, flashing the Italian an annoyed look.

Haytham pulled himself off of the younger, brushing off his pants, “Not at all, Charles. Just tying the boy down and making sure the ropes were secure. I overheard you paying off some mercenaries as protection, a gesture most appreciated. I do hope you paid off some for Hickey’s protection. He’ll need it for our plan.” Haytham suggested.

Charles nodded as he and Haytham made their way back to the tavern below. Though, Charles was unsure of leaving the assassin behind by himself, Haytham reassured Charles that Ezio was going nowhere. Ezio heard them as they left, listening as their voices moved farther and farther away until they faded into the crowded tavern. The Italian had no choice but to lie there, listening to the sounds of music and merriment below. He anticipated their immediate return, or at least anticipated Haytham coming back, but neither did. A growl reverberated in his throat as he moved his head around in order to free himself of the damned blindfold covering his eyes. He even attempted to use his biceps, squeezing at his head to push off the blindfold. Sadly, neither worked for him.

For what felt like hours, Ezio laid in the darkened room. He was half-tempted to catch up on much needed sleep but refrained. He could not risk someone coming in and attacking him in his sleep. He was vulnerable enough as it is. Thoughts wandered off to the people he involuntarily left behind back in his own time. Had the others figured out the Apple as well as a way to bring him back? Leonardo was very intelligent and could solve nearly any problem or puzzle thrown at him. No doubt he was recording his findings and figuring out a device or some sort of contraption in order to fully control the Apple’s power. Had they found that damned Rodrigo Borgia? Surely, they had defeated him by now, or at least found out where the bastardo was hiding. The other Assassins were probably already gathering their people and resources in order to storm Rodrigo’s hide-out.

Ezio then began to wonder about his mother and Claudia. He was supposed to collect feathers for his mother to bring her out of her traumatized stupor. The thought of her sitting all alone in her room, at the end of her bed staring at the wall sitting in heartbroken silence brought a tear to his eye. The poor woman had been through so much throughout the years, with the loss of her husband and two sons. She would not be able to withstand the loss of another son. He prayed no one informed her of his disappearance, just for her own sake. And what of Claudia? The young girl was always so worried of her older brother’s wellbeing. She looked up to him and loved him dearly. Mario and the others would keep them safe in Ezio’s absence. The brunette was sure of it.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by the sound of the door being kicked open, causing him to freeze instantly. Whoever had entered was clearly drunk, stumbling and giggling like a drunken idiot. It sounded as though the intruder had tripped on something, causing a long line of curses to pass their lips. The second the person began talking, Ezio rolled his eyes under the blindfold. That damned Thomas Hickey had somehow made his way up the steps and just happened to stumble into this particular room. Where Ezio just happened to be.

“Oi, ‘ello, Pretty Bird. Ya miss me?” Hickey slurred, dropping a bottle on the nearby table.

“If you wish to keep your life, I would advise keeping your distance.” Ezio said.

Hickey chuckled, slapping a hand on Ezio’s thigh. The Italian jolted at the unexpected touch, feeling the other man’s breath on his face. Ezio had to turn his head just to keep from gagging on the overwhelming stench of alcohol and Gods only knew what else. Hickey’s other hand wound its way into Ezio’s hair, calling the brunette cheeky before connecting their lips. Ezio nearly vomited as Hickey forced his tongue down his throat, Hickey’s other hand moved upward to palm him through his pants. Instinctively, Ezio bit down on Hickey’s tongue. The action caused Hickey to pull backward with a shout, holding his mouth. An unexpected blow to his cheek caused Ezio to hiss in pain. Hickey cursed and swore, words melting into amused chuckles, calling the younger a cheeky little whore.

The blindfold had been ripped from his face before his sight was obscured again by Hickey’s mouth covering his own. Hickey’s hand shoved itself into Ezio’s pants, working the brunette into unwanted arousal. Ezio grunted, moving his face to pull away from the drunk above him. Hickey did not attempt to kiss him again, instead, choosing to trail his kisses down his neck. Ezio’s shirt was ripped away from him as Hickey moved lower. A moan escaped Ezio’s throat as Hickey continued to stroke his member.

The sound made Hickey laugh, “You like that, don’t you, Love? Course you do.” He said, pulling Ezio’s pants down.

The Assassin shook his head, trying to kick the other off. It did not work, Hickey only taking his struggles as a sign to continue. It was not long until Ezio’s pants were removed entirely, Hickey working the Italian’s dick with his mouth. Ezio bit his lip, drawing blood in the process as he tried to ignore the unwanted pleasure rippling through his body. Fingers probed at his entrance, causing Ezio to shout in surprise.

“You feel good, birdie. Little loose though. Not your first time, is it, Love?”

“Wha…what? No! I have never…laid with another man!” Ezio protested weakly.

“Could have fooled me.” Another voice said.

Hickey was suddenly ripped off of the Italian. Ezio’s eyes shot open, brown eyes meeting with Haytham’s own as the older man threw Hickey to the floor. Giving Ezio another once over, Haytham turned his attention back to Hickey. He asked the man about the amount of times he told him to keep his hands to himself. Hickey told him to fuck off, and that it was not fair that Haytham kept the pretty Assassin to himself. The Grandmaster shrugged, telling the other that, because he found him, the Assassin belonged to him. Maybe if Hickey was not such an impatient slacker, maybe, just maybe Hickey would have been given a chance to play with the Italian. He could forget it now, however. Haytham dismissed the other, threatening Hickey’s manhood if he even dared to try this shit again. Hickey pulled up his pants before stumbling out of the room, leaving Haytham with a very disheveled Ezio.

Haytham stepped closer to the bed, eyes wandering over Ezio’s form, “So, a virgin, are we?” he asked, “With the amount of people you’ve slept with, not a single man has taken you?”

Ezio gulped, not saying a word. Haytham sat down on the side of the bed, hand settling on the inside of the brunette’s thigh. They sat there in silence for a moment before Haytham apologized on Hickey’s behalf. While he spoke, Haytham’s hand trailed over Ezio’s half hard cock, stroking it slowly. This caused Ezio to gasp. The older man explained that Hickey had no idea on how to properly handle a partner in the bedroom. That it was all about giving and not just taking. That he liked to rush and be rough, when one needed to be slow and loving. Haytham’s other hand caressed Ezio’s face, causing the brunette to lean away from the touch.

The door was kicked open again as Charles bolted in, looking very out of breath, “Sir!” he yelled.

Haytham growled in annoyance, pulling away from Ezio, “What is it now, Charles?!”

Charles started making wild gestures to the hallway, “It’s…it’s…!” he stuttered.

“Out with it, Charles! What is…?”

“It’s your son! He’s here!”

* * *

Connor stood over the dozens of bodies that laid on the floor, either unconscious or dead. His source said that Hickey and Charles Lee were here, that bastards responsible for the assassination plot of General Washington. If they were here, no doubt so was his father. Now was the perfect opportunity to take them all out before they could cause anymore harm. He grabbed the bartender, hauling him up and over the bar before pinning him down on a nearby table.

“Where are they?!” Connor hollered.

“Who…who?!” the bartender asked in fear.

Before Connor could interrogate further, a noise from the upper level alerted his attention. He released the bartender, who scurried away, before making his way upstairs. He heard more noises and narrowly avoided someone running into him in an attempt to escape with their life. Yelling came from behind one of the doors at the end of the corridor. The yelling was followed by the sounds of glass smashing and wood crashing. Connor pulled his bow off of his back as well as an arrow from his quiver. Drawing it back at the ready, Connor rushed the door and aimed his arrow inside of the room.

The table had been flipped over and broken apart, an alcohol bottle laid shattered on the floor. The window in the room was wide open, allowing the breeze to blow the curtains. There was a chest left neglected on the floor not too far from the broken table. All in all the room looked as though someone had made a hasty and messy escape. Which meant he had just missed his targets. Connor lowered his bow and replaced his arrow in its quiver, kneeling down to inspect the chest. After gently flipping over so it was right side-up, Connor picked the lock open. Once the lock was broken and the lid was opened, Connor’s eyes widened in shock.

Inside of the chest laid twin bracers, similar to his own hidden blade. A red sash with the Assassin’s insignia and boots laid inside as well. He momentarily inspected the items before moving on to the coat inside. There was a belt full of throwing knives, but it looked as though one had been missing. With a shrug, Connor inspected the other item in the chest. A white Assassin’s coat, also similar to his own, with an odd design on the hood. Was there another Assassin lurking around that he was not aware of? Had this Assassin already been killed?

A small gasp behind him caused Connor to turn quickly, blade at the ready for whomever was behind him. His eyes widened in shock once more at the sight before him. A man, brown hair and brown eyes, around his own age, was bound to the bed with rope. His clothes were in a state of disarray, what little remained of his shirt barely clinging to his form. His body was decorated with various cuts, bruises and other marks Connor could not really see in the dimly lit room. Said man looked exhausted and scared, unable to speak with the cloth clenched between his teeth and tied tightly behind his head. He was barefooted and barely conscious, pants pulled down past his backside. Blood trailed out of his entrance, staining the sheets underneath of him. There was a small throwing knife holding a sheet of paper above the bed.

Whoever had done this had the gull to leave a note it seemed. Being careful not to further inure the man below him, Connor picked the note off of the wall. His eyes scanned over the letter.

“This is what happens to those who side with Assassins. Until we meet again, son.” Connor read aloud.

So, his father had done this…Connor knew his father had been a monster, but he had no idea he was this monstrous. How could he do such a thing? How could he stoop so low? To sodomize a man? Connor only shook his head in disbelief, looking down at the brunette below him. The brunette looked back up at him with dazed brown eyes. With a sigh, Connor unsheathed his blade and cut the other free. So, this man was an ally of the Assassins? Connor would have to inform Achilles about this as well as bring along the chest. Once the man was free, he rubbed some feeling back into his aching wrists.

Connor removed the gag, “Are you alright?” he asked.

The other man shook his head, “No…but I will manage.” He replied with an accent Connor did not recognize.

Connor gently grasped the other man’s shoulder causing the man to flinch away. Pulling away his hand, the Native America promised the other that he would find and kill the men who had done this. The man fixed his pants, telling Connor that he was not going alone. Connor insisted that the man not seek vengeance, but to seek out someone who could help him. The man chuckled, saying that he would not allow the “bastardos” who did this to him escape and take the Apple while they were at it. It was bad enough he was trapped here, he was not going to let them get away with what they had done.

Ezio moved past this newcomer, whom he guessed was Haytham’s son, to gather his things from the chest. Only for Connor to stop him, earning an annoyed look from Ezio. Connor had asked what he thought he was doing. Ezio informed him that he was gathering his things, so he could go after Haytham.

“These…are your belongings? You are an Assassin?” Connor asked in disbelief.

Ezio felt a proud smile grace his lips, “Ezio Auditore da Firenze. At your service.”


	4. The Homestead

“That’s not possible. Ezio Auditore has been dead for almost two-hundred years.” Achilles said in disbelief, lying his hat on the table.

After a long carriage ride back to the Homestead, Connor had arrived with an unknown man in Assassin’s robes. Though reluctant to let him in, Connor had insisted that Ezio was on their side. The old man laughed in disbelief, saying that all the Assassins had been killed off. Connor argued otherwise, causing a blow-out between himself and the old man. After calming down, Achilles was still doubtful, but allowed the Italian to stay the night in his home in order for him to rest and regain his energy. Sometime during the middle of the night, Ezio almost left the Homestead to go after Haytham himself. This caused Connor to have to sit in Ezio’s room until he was actually asleep. The brunette’s tossing and turning during night terrors a clear indication of him being asleep. 

Achilles and Connor stood off to the side, in the other room, the older Assassin watching in astonishment as Ezio wandered around the room. The Italian let his curiosity get the better of him and examined all the various paintings and artifacts Achilles and Connor had acquired along the years. Connor watched as well, still very uncertain about their new guest and possible ally. Why would his father keep this man as his prisoner? Was he aware of who Ezio really was? He asked that question aloud to Achilles, earning a look. He explained that Templars and Assassins alike would know about the young Auditore upon just a look. The features and robes were unmistakable, that a Templar or an Assassin would have to be blind or completely ignorant to not know who Ezio was.

The Assassin turned at the sound of his name, looking at them with confusion. He made the mistake of moving his arm a certain way, reminding him of the wound that lay on that side. A grunt and the way he held his right shoulder caused Achilles and Connor to approach his side. Connor knew that Ezio had been assaulted sexually as well as some physical abuse, but he had not been made aware of any other physical injuries. Achilles had the Italian sit on a nearby chair before pulling off his jacket off of his form. When asked what was wrong, Ezio had insisted that it was nothing, but Achilles was not buying it. He asked Ezio to remove his shirt, given to him by Achilles, so that the older could examine his arm.

Though reluctant to take off his clothes in front of these strangers, Ezio watched them warily as he unbuttoned his top. Connor reassured him that no one was going to touch him in any way that would make him uncomfortable. Brown eyes still held some hesitance, but with a nod, he shrugged off the top and allowed Achilles to look at his shoulder. The men were shocked to see that there were actually bandages covering his shoulder, indicating that Haytham and the Templars actually took the time to patch him up. They must have fixed him up while he was unconscious, but during which period he was not sure. It must not have been too long ago judging by the small amount of blood bleeding through the bandages.

“Connor, get the bandages,” Achilles commanded, removing the stained bandages, “what happened?”

Ezio winced, making a pained noise, “I was…struck by a small pellet during that battle that took place in that field involving a man named Pitcairn. Haytham said that Connor had been on his way to kill this man.” He explained.

“You were shot during the battle of Bunker Hill.” Connor realized, handing over the medical equipment to Achilles.

Ezio nodded, wincing as Achilles cleaned his wound. Connor asked about how Ezio had gotten here. The Italian laughed like he had just explained himself and no one had believed him. This reaction caused Connor and Achilles to exchange puzzled looks. Was it really that bad or was it just a complex explanation? Ezio explained that something called “The Apple of Eden” had brought him here, but he was still not sure why it had brought him here. Achilles released a laugh of his own with a shake of his head, explaining that he knew those artifacts were dangerous, but that no one had believed him when he told them not to touch them or seek them out. Connor raised his brows in surprise, saying that he did not know that another one existed, earning a look from Achilles.

Ezio, on the other hand, sat on the edge of his seat, “You know where the other Apple is?” he asked.

Connor shook his head, “I know of it, my people used to tell tales of these god-like beings called “The Isu” and these “Pieces of Eden” but I myself have not physically seen it. A woman named Juno advised that I seek it out, through a symbol. Supposedly, it is somewhere here in the colonies. If it is as dangerous as Achilles makes it out to be, we must find it and dispose of it. After sending you back, of course.” He explained.

“It is dangerous indeed if the Templars want it. Your father said he knows where it is, which means we must find it before he gets his hands on it, assuming he does not already have it.” Ezio explained.

Connor growled at the mention of his father, earning a scolding from Achilles and a look from Ezio. Connor said nothing more, rising from his seat and leaving to go outside, causing Achilles to simply sigh and hold the bridge of his nose. Ezio looked between the older man and the door in which the Native American exited. He asked if it was something he had said, to which Achilles nodded. He explained that Connor and his father were never on good terms and absolutely despised the man. He went on further to explain that such hatred had only grown since it was revealed that his father aligned with Charles Lee and the Templars. Charles Lee and a small convoy had wandered into Connor’s village when he was younger, attacked him and small group of Native American children before going on to burn Connor’s village to the ground, which caused the death of Connor’s mother, Ziio.

Hearing such tales made Ezio think of the death of his own father and brothers once more. The Templars had a knack for killing those the assassins cared about, it seemed. He felt as though he could relate to Connor, knowing how it felt to lose family members. And then to have someone who is supposed to care about you turn on you? Ezio cast his eyes downward, explaining that he was sorry for all they had gone through. Achilles shrugged, saying that it was just how the world worked nowadays. That there was nothing they could do except make the most out of the hand dealt to them. Achilles finished replacing Ezio’s bandages, allowing the younger to get up out of the chair.

“Grazie mille, Achilles.” Ezio said as buttoned up his shirt.

The older man nodded, leaning back in his own chair. He informed the Italian that if he ever needed to talk to anyone about what had happened to him, he could always talk to himself or Connor. Ezio shook his head with a smile, saying it was only a gunshot wound. Achilles raised a brow, telling him that he was referring to the other thing. This caused Ezio to freeze in place. He lowered his head and insisted quietly that he was fine before grabbing his coat and sash. He informed Achilles that he was going to see if Connor was alright. Achilles nodded, deciding not to pry any further. He would rather not anger a figurehead of the Brotherhood. Or say something that might affect the past or present. The Apple, and most likely the Templars as well, had done that enough already.

Ezio made his way outside, eyes gazing out at the vast amount of land before him. Hearing the sounds of horses in their stables, Ezio turned his head towards the direction of the stables not too far from the house. He had not noticed them when they had brought him all the way out here. As he approached closer, he could hear someone speaking to the horses. He crept closer, being careful not to accidentally startle Connor as he pets the horse’s face while speaking to them. Ezio found it quite odd that Connor spoke to the creature in a more humanly way rather than a pet. He also found it odd that Connor was not speaking in English, but another language that Ezio could not recognize. He listened for a bit, trying to decipher just what Connor was saying, but found himself unable.

“He seems to, uh, really like you. With the way he’s listening to you.” Ezio said awkwardly. What else was he going to say?

Connor stopped suddenly, canting his head at their new arrival, “This one is a she, and I should hope she is rather fond of me. She is my horse, after all.” He said, giving the horse one last pat before turning his full attention to the shorter man.

Ezio nodded, scratching the back of his head, “Uh, my apologies, then, to the horse. I did not know.” He said, moving closer to pet the horse, “She is magnificent and looks well cared for. What is it you were saying to her?”

Connor said nothing, turning away from the other to gather the riding gear. The Italian watched with mild interest, admiring the taller as he bent over in front of him. He decided to press further, asking the Native what language that was. Connor sighed, informing the other that it was Kanien’kéha: ka, the language of his people. Ezio tilted his head at that, asking him about his people. Connor explained that he was part Mohawk, a tribe of Native Americans in which his mother belonged to. He was taught to speak both Kanien’kéha: ka and English, should he meet any of the colonists. When he had gotten older and met Achilles, he had been given the name “Connor”.

Given the name? “Connor” is not your real name?” Ezio asked, raising a brow, “What is your real name, if I may ask?”

Connor visibly hesitated, looking unsure of whether or not he should tell the other his real name. Not that it would hurt anyone if he did. He looked at Ezio, who was still awaiting an answer with an oddly innocent look of curiosity on his features. Another sigh, Connor told him that his real name was actually Ratonhnhaké:ton. Ezio attempted to repeat the name given, but found his tongue stumbling on its pronunciation. He apologized again, this time for his inability to pronounce Connor’s birthname. Although his birthname was definitely unique to the Italian, he preferred Connor solely due to how easy it was to pronounce.

Connor shook his head, “There is no need for you to apologize. It is not a very common name, and I do not imagine there are many of my kind back in your own country. I doubt my own country is known to you or your people in your own time either.”

Ezio shook his head, “I have not even heard of a place called “America”. After what I have seen and heard, I would make an attempt to stop whomever decided to move here and attack your people. You or your people did not deserve the suffering you have all endured. I…I apologize about your mother.” He said.

Again, Connor was quiet. Ezio continued, “I know what it feels like to lose family to horrible people. I had lost my father and brothers to people who were supposed to be our allies. Hung for treason, even though the man who saw them hang was apart of a treasonous pact. A group of powerful men who were apart of the Templar Order with plans to takeover Italia. I have nearly avenged them. All I have left to do is to kill their leader, but the Apple interrupted my mission before I could complete it.”

The Native before him gave him a look of sympathy as he listened to Ezio’s story. He had similar but shorter version of Ezio’s story from Achilles before, but it sounded so much more heartbreaking coming from the man himself. Connor laid a hand on Ezio’s shoulder, surprising the shorter man. The taller told him that they both suffered enough for one lifetime, and hopefully they would both find peace once this was all over. Internally, Connor knew it was far from over for Ezio, having heard the tales of all that lie ahead for the other man. To that, he felt sympathy, but did not verbally say it for fear of tampering with the past and veering Ezio off of the path he would soon begin to follow.

“Thank you, Connor.” Ezio said, embracing the man before him.

Connor made a noise that was a mix of discomfort and surprise. He had definitely not expected that from the other, considering how little they knew of each other. After Ezio’s ordeal earlier while in captivity, Connor had figured that Ezio would want little to no physical contact at all. During his time as an assassin, he had heard of rape victims becoming isolated, purposely avoiding any form of physical contact due to their traumatic experiences. He guessed that Ezio did so out of appreciation and comfort as well as a form of acceptance and sympathy. With another sigh, Connor awkwardly returned the gesture, loosely hugging the other back, giving him a couple comforting pats on the back before they released each other.

The brunette cleared his throat, “So, what is your current mission?” he asked.

“I had taken a letter from John Pitcairn. There is a conspiracy against George Washington. The Templars seek to assassinate him. I must seek out Thomas Hickey and stop him before he follows through with their plan. I have a source that informed me that Hickey has been seen in town. He has managed to get close to General Washington but is otherwise distracted with an operation. We must find him.” Connor explained.

Ezio shuddered, remembering that Hickey was the one who touched him first before Haytham took him. He then raised both his brows in realization of what Connor had just said towards the end, “We?” he asked.

Connor nodded, “I promised you that I would find the man who did what they did to you and kill them. In order to find that man, we must find Hickey. He will lead us to my father and the rest of the Templars.”

* * *

Back in Italy in Ezio’s time, Leonardo fretted over the Apple while Mario and Machiavelli watched him. It had been nearly a day and a half, and they were growing restless. Leonardo was still trying to figure out the mechanism that triggered that glow that took his friend. The Apple said something about time-travel. The Apple had shown him such wonders and inspiration for future inventions. It had shown him so much, but the time-travelling aspect was still a mystery to him. He tried to get the Apple to reveal the information to him again, but it would not glow. It seemed to have only responded to Ezio, but why?

“Have you found anything, Leonardo? Anything at all?” Machiavelli asked.

Leonardo shook his head, “I have tried to get the Apple to respond to anything or reveal its time-travelling secrets, but alas nothing.” He said.

Mario rubbed his face in exasperation, “This is not good at all. Maria and Claudia still have not recovered from the loss of Giovanni, Federico, and Petruccio. I cannot tell them about Ezio. This would absolutely destroy them.” He said, gaze turning downward to the floor.

“…Then do not tell them. Ezio is on a mission to find Rodrigo Borgia. That is what we will tell them until we can find a way to get him back or he returns himself.” Machiavelli said.

“And what if my nephew does not return? What then?” Mario exclaimed.

“He will,” Leonardo said, “Ezio has gotten out tough situations. He will get himself out of this one. He will come home.”

* * *

 

 

Haytham was not very happy at the loss of his new toy. He and Charles as well as several other Templar Loyalists sat in an inn on the edge of Boston, far away from the hustle and bustle of Boston itself. Thanks to his bastard son, they had to spend the night in another inn far from Boston in order to avoid detection. After recovering and licking their wounds, they settled into their new hide-out, spending the night going over plans and keeping watch while half the group slept to keep up their rest. 

Connor had surely found Ezio by now. He had probably taken him to that fool Achilles’s cozy little home on the other side of town. The Italian must have put up some sort of fight either before or after Connor managed to convince him to go with him. Hell, the brunette probably tried to make a run for it during the night. He laughed at the thought of the brunette trying to beat Connor and escape. Though, Ezio seemed smart enough, but kind of naïve. He probably took one look at Connor’s robes and decided that he could trust his son. 

Plus, Ezio would have been too weak to fight anyway. Though he did not get to enjoy him long, Haytham made sure he was rough. The Brit moaned as he thought of the velvety grip Ezio had on his cock when he had taken him. How Ezio had tried to scream and call out for anyone to save him. Haytham dug his fingernails into his thigh, nails biting into his pants. Gods, he wished he could take out his frustrations on the younger male again. Charles was an absolute boring lay, way too submissive and stiff for Haytham’s liking. His moans reminded the former Assassin of a cheap whore, eager to please a client. Haytham rolled his eyes, trying to replace the memories of Charles with Ezio’s cries and whimpers. 

“You there,” Haytham called to a nearby guard, "come here."

The young man nodded, rushing over to the Grandmaster’s side, “Yes, Master Haytham?” he asked. 

“When Charles sends you and your men out to hunt down the Assassin, he will have another with him. A brunette male, an Italian with bleached white robes and two hidden-blades instead of one. This one will have a red sash around his waist. I want him captured and brought to me. Alive. Charles can keep my son, but I want the other one.” Haytham commanded. 

The Soldier nodded, “Yes, Grandmaster.” 

With a nod and a wave of the hand, Haytham dismissed the soldier. During the night, Hickey went on his way to whatever money plundering scheme he was committing now. The man, who Haytham had purposely paid to act as Connor’s source of information would have told his son last night that Hickey was involved in some business in Boston. Though early in the morning, Connor would have begun his own investigation and was probably on his way to search for Hickey right now. And no doubt, Ezio would be with him, not one to stay behind and do nothing. Accompanying his son into Boston would help Ezio familiarize himself with this new place. Though, Ezio would want to seek vengeance instead. That’s what he was all about after all. Vengeance for the Auditore name. 

A vengeance that would cost him dearly in the end. It would only be a matter of time before he was back in Haytham's control. And once he acquired the Apple, Ezio would have no choice but to obey him and only him. He told the boy he would send him home, humiliated and too afraid to go against another Templar ever again, but the idea of keeping the Italian was still the better option in his mind. The Apple had the ability to control minds, a feature he would gladly use to his advantage once Ezio was his once more. He had not felt such lust since Ziio, but this lust was for power over his desired, not love or a temporary relationship. No, he would not let this one get away so easily. 


	5. Arrested

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is going to veer from the games a bit. For plot purposes.

They ate breakfast in silence, Connor picking at his porridge watching as Ezio did the same. Achilles sat across from Connor at the head, watching the younger men eat as he ate his own meal. It got to the point where Ezio felt so uncomfortable with the silence that he struck up little conversation, asking more about Boston. Asking about what they did to pass the time. Achilles explained some of the things they did while not pursuing Assassin Missions but insisted that Connor explain what he did. The Native cleared his throat, caught off guard by the statement. What could he say? Well, he told the Italian that he helped the people who lived near the Homestead, just to make their lives easier and to get along with everyone. Then were times where he would travel throughout the nearby colonies, doing small favors here and there. He tended to the horses sometime as well. He would also hunt as well, sometimes taking the fur or skin into town for profit.

Ezio smiled, “A man who loves to help people, loves horses, and is a good hunter. A crafty, helpful gentleman.” He said in admiration.

Connor smiled, “Just doing my duty. Thank you for the compliment.” He said.

“You are very welcome.” Ezio said, finishing up his breakfast.

Connor had asked what they would do in Ezio’s time when there was no Assassin business to tend to. Ezio chuckled bashfully, explaining that he had spent a lot of his time in brothels when he was younger. Connor raised a brow and looked to Achilles, who explained to him what a brothel was. The brunette continued, saying that nowadays, he did not know much except his duties to the Assassins. He explained that his and Connor’s lives were similar. Maybe after they finished business, or even between, they could find something to pass the time before Ezio returned home. Achilles laughed, making a comment about them not dying first.

* * *

“So, where will we find Hickey?” the Italian asked.

They had ridden horseback through Boston and into New York. It had been a long journey that had caused them to make many of stops on the way. They had stayed overnight at a packed Inn, causing them to have to share, not only a room, but a bed as well. The Native American did not take Ezio as someone who liked to cuddle, due to his experiences, but he had surprised the taller. Sometime during the middle of the night, Ezio had pushed his smaller form into Connor’s bigger form, wrapping his arms around his neck. They woke up the next morning with Connor spooning the Italian. The taller man had apologized profusely, but Ezio merely chuckled in response, seeing nothing wrong with their sleeping arrangement. 

Though Connor had made this trip a bunch of times throughout his life, Ezio did not want to miss a single second of it throughout the entirety of the trip. It had been fascinating for the Italian, seeing new parts of the strange new lands he had never seen before. He had asked Connor so many questions along the way, wanting to know everything about this new land. Connor answered them as best he could, not really knowing New York himself. He had only been here for business and not much else. Though there were not as many buildings as there were in the villages of Italia, New York seemed so interesting. It had been so different from his home. 

Handing off their creatures off to the nearest stableman upon entering the town square, they began investigating. Though Ezio wanted to remain on the horses, Connor insisted that they leave them at a stable. They would draw less attention to themselves if the horses were left behind, plus it allowed them to move around freely without worrying about the horses. They would also be able to navigate around quicker. Ezio still thought it was a ridiculous idea but went along with it anyway. Connor explained that his source said Hickey’s knack for trouble and lust for wealth got him involved in a counterfeiting ring taking place at one of the paper mills. It ran into town for distribution. If they hurried, they could not only catch him in the act, but alert the authorities of his imminent betrayal of Washington. 

Ezio nodded, sticking close to Connor’s side. He asked how they would go about catching Hickey in the act without anyone stepping in and trying to stop them. The solution: to fight them off. Wound but not kill, unconscious if necessary. First, they had to actually find the man. They had his location, just not to the exact point. They would have to look around a bit. Most likely split up to cover more ground and to watch for any suspicious activity. Connor remained on the streets while he told Ezio to hit the rooftops and watch from above. With a look of uncertainty on his features, the Italian gave a nod before leaving, climbing several abandoned crates next to a low building. The buildings were definitely structured differently and were farther apart than the buildings in his time. There would be moments where he would have to either jump really far or cross a street in order to go building to building. 

Connor departed as well, watching for anyone acting out suspiciously. He had seen a couple of soldiers that he had recognized as allies. Perhaps they could be of assistance in his quest to find Hickey. One of the soldiers recognized him and waved him over, congratulating him on his many victories as well as thanking him for his service. He began to ask them about a Thomas Hickey, earning an annoyed look from one of the soldiers. 

“What did that son of a bitch do now?” the annoyed soldier asked. 

The younger one chimed in, “He said something about business in the East Side. Last I saw him, he was outside of that old Tavern.” He explained. 

The annoyed soldier chuckled darkly, “When isn’t that bloke outside of a tavern? With luck, he might still be there. You might just catch the arse if you go now.” 

After asking for exact directions, Connor thanked them for their help. Hopefully, the soldiers were right, and Hickey was still there. He had to be quick if he was to catch him. Obtaining information had been surprisingly easy, so hopefully this mission would proceed without any bumps along the way. Knowing his luck, he would not be so lucky. Something always went wrong. Canting his head upward, he looked to see if Ezio was still nearby. Unfortunately, Ezio was no where in his sights, meaning that the other Assassin should be close to Hickey’s location. 

The Italian was currently perched on a church rooftop, watching over the people below. He had seen some men get into a scuffle with some redcoats, but nothing suspicious looking. Just angered citizens going after British Soldiers. While debating if he should intervene or not, he saw some blue coats exiting a tavern, laughing and stumbling on their own feet. They took one look at the scuffle happening not too far from them and laughed before walking in the opposite direction. Well, that was certainly suspicious. Why were they not helping their people? Before he could strike, he caught sight of Connor’s white hood. Ezio sat back but watched. Connor’s pace quickened, seemingly stalking the bluecoats. He used his Eagle Sight, seeing that one of the bluecoats glowed a menacing red. Hickey. Ezio followed as well. 

Connor stayed several paces behind Hickey and his group, stopping along the way and blending in with the crowd whenever a man turned to look. A shadow moving above caught his eye. Brown eyes looked upward and saw Ezio following from the rooftops. Good, should something happen, Ezio would be able to easily jump in and help. The group of men suddenly disappeared into the nearest alleyway. Watching from his crouched position around the corner, Connor watched them disappear into a building with a white door. He signaled Ezio to stay in position while he went over to knock on the door. With hesitation, he walked backward a couple of paces before rushing the door. It fell under his weight and landed on whoever was guarding it. Men screamed in surprise as wood and other materials clattered to the floor. 

“What the bloody hell is going ‘ere?!” Hickey shouted, drawing his gun. 

Connor threw his tomahawk, knocking the gun out of the other man’s hand. Throwing an elbow, he caught one man in the nose and then punched another in the face. Hickey hollered several commands Connor could not understand and then ran out of the building, a burlap sack in hand. Connor fought the rest of the men off before chasing after him. He could not let the bastard get away now. Not when he was so damn close to catching him. 

Ezio was already in pursuit, jumping off of the building before hitting the streets. Ducking into an alleyway, but using his sight, he told Connor that he would cut Hickey off. Connor gave a confirmation back, staying on Hickey’s tail. It would not be too long until they caught the man. Just as he was about to make his way around the corner, an arm shot out and caught Ezio’s face. The surprise attack sent him crashing to the ground with a pained yelp. He looked up and nearly backpedaled away from his attacker. 

“Two Assassins? Against one Templar? That doesn’t seem quite fair now, does it?” Haytham asked, a glowing Piece of Eden in hand. 

Brown eyes widened in shock as Ezio tried to get away. He way was blocked off by two Templar soldiers. The two men grabbed Ezio by his arms and hoisted him to his feet before they dragged him away, a smiling Haytham following close behind. 

Connor tackled Hickey to the ground and began delivering blows to his face. Hickey kicked and bucked, throwing Connor off of his form. Dropping the sack in the process, Hickey landed some blows of his own. Their fighting had drawn the attention of some nearby soldiers as well as the authorities. They stepped in to break up the brawling men while their leader picked up the sack. He then began barking orders at his men, telling them to arrest Hickey and Connor. Connor had protested, but eventually caved. 

“What are the charges?” He demanded to know. 

“Counterfeiting.” Was the last thing he head before a baton connected with his skull, knocking him out cold. 


	6. Caged Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Rape Scene in this Chapter*

“Release me!” Ezio hollered, kicking out at the guard trying to bind his ankles together.

The trek to the ship had not been an easy one, the Italian making everything all the more difficult for his Templar captors. Ezio had already incapacitated the original guards that had grabbed him. Haytham had previously tried to use the Apple on the brunette, only to have it kicked out of his grasp. The Assassin did not yet know the capabilities of the Piece of Eden, but he did not intend to find out just yet. Especially if the user of the mystical item was a Templar Grand Master. The Italian kicked right foot up at the man holding his left arm. The strike turned into a flip, causing the man holding his right arm to lose his balance and grip on the Assassin. Once freed, Ezio plunged both of his Codex Blades into the nearest guard’s throat.

Another growl of annoyance left Haytham’s mouth, eyes darting around to locate the Apple. Where was the blasted thing? Turning to the remaining guards, Haytham commanded them to keep the Assassin busy. With his men distracting Ezio, this allowed the Templar to locate the Piece of Eden once more and use it on the Assassin in an attempt to gain control of him.

Ezio fought off the guards, either killing them or knocking them out along the way. Where was Connor? Not only should he have handled Hickey, but he should have been here by now. Another guard tried to grab him from behind, causing Ezio to slam his head back into the other man’s face. The man screamed, clutching his now broken nose in pain, releasing the Italian in the process. With a spin kick, Ezio sent the guard skidding across the dirt road and away from himself. Hearing the sounds of another on slot of guards stampeding his way, Ezio rolled his eyes in both annoyance and exhaustion. This was becoming a tiresome and tedious task, nevertheless, he prepared himself for another fight.

“That’s enough, boy.” Haytham called out, Apple in hand.

Of course, Haytham had managed to get a hold of the Apple again. He would have to stop him first. Unsheathing both of his blades, Ezio charged at the elder with a roar. Haytham merely smirked, before commanding the younger to stop right there. As if on cue, Ezio froze in place. With another command, Haytham had the brunette not on sheath his weapons, but kneel at his feet. Ezio gritted his teeth and growled, trying to resist the commands, but all in vain. What was happening? Brown eyes turned upward at the Apple, noticing it glow menacingly. It was capable of controlling others as well? That would explain why Rodrigo and now, why Haytham, wanted to get their hands on it so badly.

“Impressive. The Apple works better than I thought it would. It seems as though the Isu had the right idea in mind when they created the Pieces of Eden.” Haytham said, admiring the Apple.

Ezio growled in response, causing Haytham to chuckle in amusement. The older man commanded him to stand and come back with him back to his ship, to which Ezio involuntarily obeyed. Along the way, Haytham told the brunette the story of the Isu people as well as their creation of the Pieces of Eden. About how they were created to control humanity and prevent another uprising. The Italian only half listened, too concentrated on focusing all his willpower on trying to escape. Sadly, the only thing he could accomplish was clenching his fists and growling and grunting in frustration. The rest of his body willingly followed Haytham back to this ship in which the elder spoke of.

While walking through the town, people paid them little to no mind. Some turned their attention to the men, but only for a moment before going back to their own business. As if a man walking next to another man who was glowing faintly was not at all an odd sight. Soldiers greeted Haytham as they walked by, tipping their hats at the older male. A gesture in which Haytham returned with a nod. The older man then asked Ezio what it was like to not have any control of his own body. What was it like to have to obey someone else against your will? He then wondered aloud what else he could force Ezio to do. Maybe take an innocent life? Steal? Maybe force the younger to submit? Oh, the possibilities were endless. Ezio only responded with a weak whimper.

‘Connor, where are you?’ Ezio thought to himself.

* * *

A groan escaped his lips as Connor held his head in pain. Slowly opening his eyes, he could see the brown ceiling of what looked like a prison. He slowly sat up from his leaning position against the wall, taking in his surroundings. Sure enough, he was in a jail cell, but why? What the hell had happened? He looked upward to see an unwelcomed visitor standing in front of his cell window.

“You…” Connor snarled, charging at the wall.

Thomas Hickey stood there, smiling a Cheshire grin at Connor, “You miss me, sweet’art?” Hickey asked with a chuckle.

Connor was at a loss for words. How did Hickey escape from the authorities? Why was he not in a cell? He had been caught in the act, but why was he free? Connor felt panicked. If he was out there and Connor was in here, that meant that no one else knew about Hickey’s involvement with the Washington Assassination Attempt. Maybe he had been locked up as well? It did look like Hickey was in a cell of his own. But what if he got out? Which meant that no one could stop him. No one except…Ezio. Where was Ezio?

“Wot? Nothin’ to say?” Hickey taunted.

“If you are here, then Washington is safe.” Connor replied.

Hickey smiled, “True, true. Thing is,” he began, moving to the door of his cell, “I believe I’ve just been pardoned.”

Connor turned his attention to the cell door, watching as men in uniform passed by. The one man pulled out a set of keys to release Hickey from his cell. Charles Lee and Haytham was with them. And…Ezio?! The Italian looked uncomfortable to be there and barely paid Connor any mind. Once the door opened, Hickey stepped out, thanking the men for his “rescue”. Haytham shook his head in disappointment, explaining that there could be no further mistakes. Thomas gave the other an incredulous look, but then asked about the Assassin at Haytham’s side. Haytham smiled and cupped the Italian’s chin, reassuring Hickey that Ezio would not be an issue. Thomas then asked about Connor, causing Haytham to turn his head toward his son.

“E’s here. They put ‘im in the cell next to mine. What will we do with this one, eh?” Hickey asked.

Haytham rolled his eyes but glanced over at Connor once more anyway. An idea came to mind. He beckoned Ezio closer so that the Italian stood in front of Connor’s cell. Haytham grabbed the back of Ezio’s head before roughly thrusting the younger up against Connor’s cell door. The brunette grunted in pain as he was pinned there. Connor jerked backward in surprise. Haytham leaned over Ezio’s shoulder, hand tangled in the white hood.

“Do you see this, son? This is what will happen if you continue to defy us. Every move you make against us, I will take it out on him. He will pay for every crime against us.”

Ezio was not moving against his father. Why was he not fighting against him? His father pulled back, as if demonstrating a point. He explained that the brunette would not fight them as hard as Connor would. While he spoke, Haytham trailed a hand downward to squeeze the Italian’s ass, causing the other to release an unknown noise. Haytham then added that it was not like the younger would want to fight. Connor raised a brow in confusion, still not understanding why Ezio was not resisting. Haytham grasped Ezio’s chin, tilting his head upward. He told the other to kiss him. The Italian did so without protest.

Something was not right…was he…glowing?

Connor growled, “What have you done to him?” he demanded an answer. What had happened to his comrade?

Haytham chuckled, holding up a glowing orb. Connor’s eyes widened in recognition. How had his father acquired the Apple? He explained that this particular item was created to control humanity so that they did not rise up against the Gods. It had many capabilities, but his favorite was mind-control. It was why their mutual friend here was not currently cutting Haytham’s fellow Templars to pieces. Connor asked if his father planned on using it against him, to which his father laughed. Why would he need to? Connor was safe behind bars...for the short while he was to stay here, at least.

Connor’s eyes widened in shock. He told his father to elaborate further, but the older man said nothing. Connor then tried to negotiate, telling his father to release Ezio and to take him instead, but Haytham ignored him. He told Charles to handle the rest of their business here before regrouping back to their hideout. Wrapping an arm around Ezio’s waist, Haytham led the younger out of the prison, telling his son on his way out that his talents were wasted with the Assassins and it was a shame that events transpired to this point. He also stopped to tell the Native not to worry about Ezio. That Haytham would take very good care of him.

Charles stared at Connor, trying to figure out where he had previously recognized him from. It took him a moment before he told Connor that he had seen him at the Continental Congress. “Adams’ Little Lap Dog”. He hummed, turning to Hickey to inform the other that he had an idea. Something about “Two Birds” and “One Stone”. Hickey asked him to explain, but Charles said that he would do so at a later date, reassuring him that the Assassin was not going anywhere anytime soon. For now, they had to see about getting better accommodations for Thomas here at the prison, causing the other man to give him a surprised look.

“What are you on about? I thought I was gettin’ out of here?” Thomas asked.

Charles rolled his eyes and turned back to his comrade, “I’m afraid you won’t be leaving for a while, thanks to Benjamin Tallmadge…” Charles said, as he and Thomas made their way to another part of the prison.

Connor watched them leave, anger and hatred in his eyes. With a grunt, he slammed his fist against the nearest wall, slumping down against it. He had failed. Hickey was most likely getting out of here, free to kill General Washington while his father had recaptured Ezio and planned to do Gods only knew what to him. In the meantime, Connor was left in here to rot, to whither away and die while the Templars took over America. He looked up at the window outside, watching the sun’s rays shine inside of his cell. He stretched a hand out to feel the warm light on his fingers and palm.

His thoughts drifted off to Ezio once more. Though he had not known him long, Connor found himself rather fond of the Italian’s presence. The fondness was not like that of a friend, however. No, Connor found himself attracted to the shorter man. It was not like the brunette wasn’t attractive. Quite the opposite actually, he was quite handsome. He seemed kind and friendly enough. He really hoped the brunette would stick around for a bit before heading back to his own time. He would never admit it out loud, but he did not want the brunette to leave. He wanted to know more about him. What made him smile. What upset him. What made him laugh. A sad sigh escaped him. It was a shame he was never going to see him again. His father would see to that.

A look of determination crossed his features. No…no. He would get out of here. He had to. He had people depending on him. Achilles, Adams, his people, Washington, Ezio…they needed him. Needed his help. He had to get out of here. Even if he had to use the prisoners to do it. Loud noises next door drew his attention to the cell next to his. He overheard two prisoners talking about someone trying to escape. He stood up and pressed his head up against the wall. Something about a man named Mason, or “Weasel Weems” carving something in the yard. A key of some sort.

He had to find this man, had to get out of here before it was too late.

* * *

 

Haytham relaxed against the headboard of his bed, hand tangled in brown locks that were now freed from the ribbon that previously held them. Ezio laid against his chest in silence, gaze cast downward. Haytham was clad in just his button-up shirt, pants and boots, while Ezio was still in his full robes, but had been stripped of all of his weapons and his gloves. The older man wondered what he would do with the younger male first. Or more specifically; what would he make the younger male do first? Have him strip naked and have him service Haytham with his mouth? Have him ride him and scream his name until his throat was raw? Tie him down again and pound into him while Ezio begged for release? There were so many options and possibilities that Haytham was not sure which to explore first. He looked down at the younger, who sat quietly in his lap. 

“I still have not figured out what to do with you once this is all over. Though your disappearance from your time may affect my own, the idea of keeping you is still the more enticing option.” Haytham said. 

Ezio said nothing in response. It was not like he could anyway. He could not speak unless Haytham willed it. The older man continued, proposing the idea of using the Apple to create another Ezio, sending the doppelganger back to Ezio’s own time, just to keep the original trapped here with Haytham. He asked the brunette how that sounded, earning more silence, to which Haytham took as a confirmation. Brown eyes looked over at the Apple, which sat on the bedside table on Haytham’s side, glowing menacingly once again. 

Staying here would not seem like such an awful idea…as long as it was not spent with Haytham. During his short time here, Ezio had grown rather fond of Connor, missed him even. Though Haytham was Connor’s father, the Native was nothing like the man. His father was controlling, evil and rough, whereas Connor was gentle, kind, and good-natured. The man had a good heart, the Italian just knew it. If Ezio ever did make it back to his own time, he would take Connor with him. The man made him feel things Ezio had never felt toward any woman or other men. The brunette wanted more of him, wanted to know everything about him, wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. 

“Ezio, my boy,” Haytham said, interrupting the brunette’s thoughts, “I want you to strip for me.” 

The words hit him like ice, making him freeze more so than before. Dread filled the brunette as he involuntarily got off of the bed to stand before Haytham. It felt as though a pit had settled in his stomach when Haytham reached out to remove the brunette’s cape for him, hearing the heavy garment hit the floor with a dull “thud”. His own fingers reached downward to remove his belt and sash, allowing them to join his cape on the floor. Haytham told him that he was moving much too fast, commanding him to move slowly instead. The brunette obeyed, hands removing his tunic at a much slower rate than before. Once that had been discarded, Ezio kicked off his boots as well as his pants. Once he was left in just his shirt, Haytham had him stop, telling him to crawl on to the bed instead. Again, the brunette had no choice but to obey. 

Once on the bed, Haytham threaded his fingers through those brown locks again before connecting their lips. A neutral noise escaped Ezio’s throat as he felt Haytham pry his mouth open with his tongue. The older man’s other hand cupped the brunette’s backside as he forced him to straddle his lap. It was only a matter of minutes before their positions were switched, Ezio on his back underneath of Haytham, pinned against the smooth sheets and soft mattress. Kisses trailed along the younger’s throat as fingers divested him of his shirt, allowing more kisses to travel downward. Haytham ran his hands over the scarred skin, alternating between kisses and bites. 

Ezio laid there, feeling quite vulnerable as Haytham caressed and touched seemingly every inch of his skin. Eyes trailed over to the Apple once more, wanting so desperately to just reach out, grab it, and leave. Sadly, he was still unable to do much of anything. Haytham stripped off of his pants and shirt as he settled between Ezio’s legs. Reaching over to the bedside table opposite of the one holding the Apple, Haytham pulled out a bottle of oil. He held it in his hands for a moment before an idea appeared in his head. The oil was placed in Ezio’s hands, the older man commanding him to prepare himself to his liking. 

With a blush, the brunette opened the bottle before pouring a generous amount over his fingers. Propping himself up with the pillows, Ezio inserted one finger into himself, and then a second in order to stretch himself out. A grunt escaped him, still sore from when Haytham took him the first time. The British man loomed over him, watching him intently while stroking his length. Ezio closed his eyes as he inserted a third finger into himself, imagining that it was anyone else but Haytham above him. He first thought of Leonardo, imagining the blonde using his skilled artist fingers to stretch the brunette out. It was working until Haytham told him to keep his eyes open, wanting to watch those brown eyes fill with ecstasy. Ezio whimpered, staring into Haytham’s own brown eyes. 

Ezio’s mind then replaced the older man with Connor. It was lucky that the two shared a strong resemblance and likeness to one another. Ezio moaned again as his own length rose at the thought of Connor taking him. Would the Native be a gentle lover to match his gentle nurturing side? Or was there a side to the man that liked to be rough and dominating? Ezio moved the fingers faster inside of himself, head thrown backward into the pillows envisioning Connor thrusting into him. Before he could bring himself to finish, Haytham stopped him, removing his hand from his ass. Haytham pinned the younger’s wrists down to the bed before thrusting deep within him, tearing a scream from Ezio’s throat at the sudden intrusion. 

“Still so tight…are you telling me my son did not have the chance to sample your tight heat?” Haytham asked, nearly bending the brunette in half as he pounded into him. 

“N-No…” Ezio whimpered between clenched teeth. 

“Oh? I figured. He probably would not know what to do should he ever be presented with such a chance. Not as experienced as myself, I’m afraid. Achilles probably doesn’t let the boy roam much. Or forced him to take some “Holy Vow of Abstinence”.” Haytham said, flipping Ezio on to his stomach. 

A hand on the back of his neck forced Ezio’s head into the mattress while forcing his ass higher into the air. This new angle forced Haytham to thrust deeper into Ezio’s entrance, hitting his prostate dead-on. Ezio screamed at the pleasure that exploded behind his eyes when the older man hit that spot inside of him. Haytham told him he enjoyed this, forcing Ezio to repeat him. Haytham then told him to beg for his release, 

“Please…please, Haytham. Please…” Ezio whimpered, “I need…I need to…” 

“What do you need, my boy?” Haytham panted. 

“…I need release…please…” Ezio begged. 


End file.
